


Reubens angel

by Ilikepears



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Art, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a model, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff and Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Inspired by Fanart, M/M, My First Fanfic, Post-Canon, The National Gallery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilikepears/pseuds/Ilikepears
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale take a trip to the National Gallery and find a very interesting painting. Inspired by WhiteleyFoster's exhibition angel artwork
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	Reubens angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts).



Being on _their_ side was still a novelty. No more secret meetings at alternate rendezvous or bumping into each other on the bus or in the park, now they could go out to dinner and have picnics and go to the theatre and sit together without denying knowing each other (though Crowley still preferred the funny ones).

Being able to openly share their feelings for each other was something Crowley hoped he’d never stop appreciating, he wanted to cherish every second of his time spent with his angel (finally he could think of Aziraphale as _his_ angel), the first time Aziraphale held his hand he was sure he’d discorporate, the angel’s hands were so soft and warm with elegantly manicured nails and when Crowley gently squeezed his hand the smile Aziraphale gave him was bright enough to outshine the sun and made the demon very glad he was wearing his sunglasses.

As the leaves fell from the trees and the first summer since the world didn’t end started to change to autumn the nights grew colder and the two supernatural beings spent their evenings snuggled up together on the old sofa in the back room of the bookshop under a warm tartan blanket (Crowley’s protests were rather halfhearted but it would have been wrong not to say anything) drinking wine or cocoa with a splash of whisky or rum, having animated discussion like so many times before, the demon’s limbs were sprawled in all directions and his head was on the angel’s lap.

As the weather turned cold and wet the days out changed too, picnics became trips to restaurants and cafes, Crowley having a more reptilian digestion would opt for smaller meals or snacks and would happily gaze at the angel once he’d finished. Visits to museums and galleries became more frequent, both angel and demon enjoyed going to the natural history museum to laugh at the dinosaurs until security asked them to leave after Crowley told a group of students that none of it was real and it was just a joke by the almighty.

Trips to the British Museum were like a giant game of lost and found with the pair trying to see if anything on display had been theirs in the past (Aziraphale had to stop Crowley from retrieving some of them). It was a rainy Thursday afternoon and Aziraphale had closed the shop early: “the weather is dreadful” he said, “I wouldn’t want humans coming into my shop dripping water everywhere, - it could harm the books” Crowley made a vague noise of agreement and went back to his game. After Aziraphale had rearranged the same shelf four times and turned all the spines inwards, drunk six cups of tea and eaten three packs of biscuits (the fancy chocolate ones from Marks & Spencer) Crowley decided they needed to get out of the shop for a while.

They decided to take a trip to the national gallery, it wasn’t the school holidays and the peak tourist season had ended so it wasn’t too busy. Crowley promised his angel that they’d go to the café and have tea and cake once they’d looked around (bribery was a good way to get Aziraphale out of the shop). Crowley was browsing some paintings idly sauntering from one to next when Aziraphale let out a sound of shock and panic from behind him. Crowley turned so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet, “angel, what is it? What’s wrong?” said the frantic demon, Aziraphale started to push Crowley towards the exit, “nothing my dear, I think it’s time to leave” replied the angel as he continued to push the demon towards the exit.

Crowley strained to see what had got the angel so worked up and caught a brief glimpse at the plaque beneath the painting “Reubens’ angel 1630” Crowley looked up to see a familiar set of dimples and as his gaze continued upwards he was met with an upturned nose, blue eyes and pale fluffy curls he’d recognize anywhere. Crowley couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the angel who normally hid his corporation under multiple layers of clothing was pictured wearing nothing but a sheet. Crowley’s brain stopped working, his sunglasses slipped down briefly exposing his eyes which had gone completely yellow from the shock, “is that…” he stammered before trailing off as his brain tried and failed to process this information. “don’t be ridiculous” the angel protested still trying to push Crowley to the door, he was seriously contemplating picking the demon up and running out of the gallery at this point. “That’s definitely you angel” said Crowley, he was still unable look away from the painting, Aziraphale sighed “my corporation may not be to everyone’s liking” he said putting his hands contently on his wide stomach “but certain body types have been fashionable over the years and well, he was very nice and he had some great wine” the angel said wringing his hands.

Crowley turned and looked at Aziraphale as his brain slowly came back online “angel” he said “you’re beautiful”. Aziraphale was blushing “you’re a work of art” the demon said. Aziraphale laughed “yes my dear, that was the point”. Crowley glared at him from behind his sunglasses, he was torn between never wanting to leave and never wanting another human to set eyes on the painting of his angel. Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale, the angel was pouting and doing his best puppy dog eyes, head tilted down a little while his big blue eyes looked up at Crowley, the demon sighed he knew he couldn’t win against that, he mentally vowed to come back and buy a print of the painting (it didn’t occur to him or the gift shop that there may not be prints of the painting available but if they weren’t there now they would be when the demon returned).

“Come on angel, let’s get you some cake” Aziraphale beamed up at him and Crowley again wondered how humans could see the brightness of the angels smile and not go blind. “Oh thank you my dear, that sounds delightful” the angel replied, and as they left the gallery to find the café neither of them noticed the plaque next to the painting that said ‘Archangel fucking Gabriel 1832’.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first proper fanfic, thanks to the Ace Omens for bullying me nto writing it
> 
> Credit to WhiteleyFoster for the artwork the fic was based on https://www.instagram.com/p/CEUWDjGF-O0/?igshid=ovi08owya5sf


End file.
